


Revenge of the Sith Remake

by DERT



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Coruscant, Dark Anakin, Jedi Temple, Lightsaber Battles, Lightsabers, Multichapter, Mustafar, Remake, Seduction to the Dark Side, please read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DERT/pseuds/DERT
Summary: In honor of The Last Jedi trailer being released. I decided to remake my favorite part of my favorite Star Wars movie, the ending of Revenge of the Sith.





	1. Darth Vader is Born

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of The Last Jedi trailer being released. I decided to remake my favorite part of my favorite Star Wars movie, the ending of Revenge of the Sith. I obviously love the original; this is just how I would change it if I were responsible for the storyline of the remake. All and any critique is welcomed.
> 
> Note: In this head-cannon, Palpatine is a woman. This is not because I want "diversity cookie points", you will understand my reasoning later. Assume that all other previous events from Revenge of the Sith are the same, save for the conversation regarding Padme between Anakin and the Senator, (that correspondence did not occur within this remake) and an added character.

After his conversation with Senator Palpatine, there is only one thought on Anakin's mind as he speeds back to the Jedi temple, one undeniable truth and there is no time to waste revealing it. He arrives at the temple to find the council chambers empty save for the rays of dusk perforating the room. It is a struggle to suppress the overwhelming urge to let out a scream of frustration. The sound of his heart pounding nearly deafens him, yet he reaches for the Code to comfort him. _There is serenity_. He mulls over the words and expands his lungs until his mind is that of a Jedi.

The knight steps into the opulent hallway and calls out to the lone Padwan lingering in the hall between tall pillars.

"Zaver, do you know where the members of the Jedi council are?"

"I overheard Master Windu say they ought to visit the Chancellor, Master Skywalker," the young boy replies.

A slight grimace nearly plays on Anakin's lips before he suppresses it.

"I'm not a Master." He struggles to say the words without allowing his bitterness to seep through. "Thank you, Zaver." The words are barely out of his mouth before he sprints towards the ship that awaits him. There is not a single second to spare.

* * *

 

As she gazes at Coruscant's night sky, Chancellor Palpatine takes another sip of water from the cup before returning to the report she was working on. Her next proposal will be a controversial one, but now that she has been granted emergency powers, the approval of the senate is merely a formality now, and she is more than willing to sacrifice the comfort of a few toes for the safety of the Republic. She feels a tinge of annoyance as she recalls the constant opposition she faces despite being granted full powers. Her late husband never faced this level of blatant insubordination. His proud yet wrinkled face hung upon the wall next to the doorway. Her throat tickles yet again.  _Am I ill?_ She finishes the water in the cup and returns her focus to drafting. Her hands move to form the next sentence but a sharp and blinding pain in her temple stops the action. She presses a hand to her temple in a futile attempt to ease the ache.

There is the hiss of the door sliding open behind her and the boom of several footsteps, louder than usual. _Damn Hirrop Metes, I told him to ring me before granting visitors access._

She plasters a smile on her face before spinning her chair to face not a few Jedi, but what she suspects to be nearly all the members of the Jedi Council. The crow lines at the corner of her eyes do not falter at their numbers.

"Master Windu," she chirps. "I take it General Grievous has been destroyed then?"

The dark-skinned warrior's expression remains fixed in a scowl as he remains silent.

Her voice drops, to a serious tone. "I must say- you are here sooner than I expected."

"In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic..." the master begins, as he reaches for the saber in his cloak. "You are under arrest, Chancellor." He and his companions simultaneously draw their weapons.

Palpatine's eyebrows shoot up in surprise for a moment before settling on her brow in anger. "Are you… threatening me, Master Jedi?" Palpatine asks, her tone equal parts incredulous and furious _. It is astounding, the insubordination these men think they can get away with…_

"The senate will decide your fate." He forms the sentence with an unwavering confidence. She would be blown away by his arrogance if she were not infuriated by his rebellion.

"I _am_ the senate." She clips each word of her reply.

"Not yet." He tightens his grip on the lightsaber in his hand and Palpatine has had enough of the borderline-ridiculous attempt at a coup. She turns back to her workspace to reach for the button to call for security but falter as another bout of the migraine returns to plague her.

It feels as if the weight of nine planets' oceans combined to bear down upon her silver hairline and she doubles over under their great mass. The agony spreads to her belly and transforms as it seeps throughout her body until she is certain it has infected her bones; foreign yet unadulterated rage. The buttons in front of her blur for a moment before becoming brighter, crisper than they have ever been before. Her senses are aflame, alight in a way they have never been, not even when she was a child. Palpatine grabs at her desk to help positon herself upright, pressing on random buttons as she does so. A small chamber appears from the confines of her workspace and she recognizes its contents right away. A small gold-plated cylinder with stacked rings on the bottom of the chamber and a small button protruding from its sleek frame.

She looks over her shoulder to see the traitors slowly approaching. Her senses burn and her wrath burns brighter, still.

"It is treason, then." Faster than even she would have considered possible, she grabs the lightsaber and swings as she ignites it, fatally wounding the Jedi warrior who was standing closest to her. The anger flows through her like a current and the more she dwells on it, the brighter the room seems to grow and the slower the Jedi's motions become. One steps toward her with his lightsaber above her head, his movement so tortuously sluggish that she finds it easy work to slice both his hands before plunging the saber into his chest. Windu and one other lumber towards her from both sides and she pulls the lightsaber out in time to block their blows. The other lunges and she ducks, stepping behind the female Jedi with a limberness and a speed she did not even possess in her teenage years. A diagonal slash across her opponent's back and she topples over, leaving only Mace Windu and the Chancellor. Windu's brow twitches, almost unnoticeable but now that she has the vision of a Condor Dragon, the meaning of that minute movement is clear: fear. She swings once more and the Jedi master crouches- then flees to her private chamber.

* * *

 

Anakin fears he may be too late. Night has already fallen and the members of the Jedi Council left the Temple well over an hour ago. The Republic Executive building is almost empty and it surprises Anakin to find Palpatine's assistant, Mirrop, sitting at his desk outside the Chancellor's personal office.

"Hello, General Skywalker," the white-haired youth greets. His amber iris have dimmed to brown in the dark lighting.

"Hello," Anakin pants. "Have any members of the Jedi council come by?"

Mirrop smiles, making his cherubic cheeks even rounder. "Why, yes. They entered an hour ago, stating important business. As you know, the room is soundproofed, so I do not know the manner of business."

"I need to see them right away," Anakin says as he wipes sweat from his brow.

"Of course." Mirrop presses a button underneath the desk and the doors open.

* * *

 

A horrible sight awaits Anakin when he enters the Chancellor's chambers. Mace stands over the trembling body of the Chancellor and the glow of his saber casts a purple shadow upon her face. Her silver hair is unkempt, sticking in every direction and her clothes have tears in them. Sweat glistens across her face and the bags underneath her eyes seem even darker. Blue veins protrude under her wrinkled pale skin; her hands are up, defensive.

"Please…" she begs.

The Jedi Master is unmoved by her pleas; his scowl does not soften nor does his saber move from its position inches away from her face.

"The oppression of the Sith will never return. You have lost!" he boasts.

Anakin's eyes widen in horror as the Master swings his lightsaber, and in a moment, Anakin's saber is drawn, the blue clashing with purple.

"Master," Anakin exclaims. "This is not the Jedi way." _How can there be such hypocrisy in a Master?_

"Step aside, Skywalker." Mace commands, the same tone he used to deny Anakin the rank of master. "I am going to end this, once and for all."

"She must stand trial," Anakin insists. "And I don't think she is the Sith Lord. Yoda told me to search my feelings; she is not the one."

"She is too dangerous to be left alive," Mace screams and Anakin is sure that there is no serenity, only passion in the man standing before him. Before Anakin can say another word of protest, he feels a pressure on his chest, knocking him backwards and the purple saber moves in an arc. The Chancellor seems serene, then a thin line of red pours from her neck. For a moment, too long of a period, there is silence in the room.

All at once, the gravity of the situation pulls Anakin back to reality.

"What have you done?" Anakin screeches. "What have you done?" He is more than sure than the vein in his forehead that Padme teases him about is popping down from his brow.

"She was the traitor." Mace replies nonchalantly. "The Sith lord, and ready to destroy us all." He turns his lightsaber off.

Anakin stares at the corpse; her empty eyes seem to beg him to do something, to prove that he isn't truly as lost as he has been feeling recently. Slowly, the younger man, lifts his lightsaber, until it points at Mace Windu's neck. "You are under arrest, Master Windu." He could feel the foundation that had been laid down in youth crumbling, one more decision of ambivalence away from ruins.

The dark-skinned man looks at him incredulously. "Skywalker, put the lightsaber down."

"Can you be this arrogant, this hypocritical?" Anakin struggles to keep his voice level, in the manner a Jedi should. "It is you who said that we are keepers of peace, not soldiers. You have made mockery of the Jedi Code and the laws of the Republic."

The master lets out a sigh before drawing his lightsaber from his cloak once more. "Has it come to this?"

Anakin does not miss a beat. "Yes, it has."

Mace ignites his lightsaber, turning his dark skin to purple. He assesses Skywalker, no longer as confident as he was minutes ago. The two begin to slowly circle, neither one of them prepared to make the first blow.

"She was not the Sith." Anakin yells. His words taste like copper now. "In fact, I am sure of it." He swings his lightsaber and Master Windu barely has time to react. The older man blocks and immediately, turns it into an attack. With a few exchanges, the two transverse the room. Their lightsabers connect one time before a short lapse in their duel.

Mace pants out, "Anakin, end this madn-" The Jedi master never has a chance to finish his words. Two pale hands grab his crown from behind and lightning arcs through his body. Yet even as he looks on in horror, Anakin can sense it is not electricity, but something much stronger. Mace writhes as the energy overtakes his body, and smoke escapes his nostrils. When the hands release him, his burnt corpse drops to the floor, revealing a familiar young man.

"Hirrop Metes," Anakin gasps. "I- It was you." Even in the dark light of the room, the cherubic man's irises glow gold. He reaches out a hand and the gold-plated lightsaber floats into his left hand.

"Yes, it is I." His friend's voice is no longer light and melodious, but rather deep and croaky, like an old man. His round face contorts into a sneer as he glances down at the charred body of Mace Windu.

"The Jedi." He spits those two words as if they were a curse. "Too prideful to train their saber-skill properly. Too arrogant to study the difference between a drugged woman and a Sith lord," he settles into the Chancellor's seat. "So overconfident that they could not detect the Sith in their midst. Sit, young Skywalker."

Anakin deactivates his lightsaber and settles into a chair; he doesn't realize how weary he is until he touches the cushion. The question fly through his mind, chaos, but one far more important than the rest.

"Can you save Padme?"

The Sith lord chuckles and it sounds far more sinister than Anakin has ever realized. "The Chancellor told you my story, yes? Well, it occurred over one thousand years ago," he gestures towards his wrinkle-free face. "Suffice to say, there is ample evidence that I have the power to save the one you love. But, you must choose."

Anakin wishes that the decision was a struggle. He hopes that somewhere in his heart the values that have become the foundation of his personality would make this arduous, but all that he has seen in the past day has eroded his hopes until only one choice remains. He stands and approaches Darth Sidious.

"I will do whatever you ask. Just help me save, Padme's life." His voice cracks. "I can't live without her."

Sidious smirks as he replies, "You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin." Sidious rises from his seat, half a head shorter than the Jedi. "Become my apprentice. Learn to use the dark side of the Force."

Anakin falls to his knees. "I-I pledge myself to your teachings." As he says the words, he can feel it: all the memories and anger and hurt he has repressed, bubbling to the surface. It aches and burns to resurrect these emotions… yet it is pleasure beyond compare; power unleashed and potential that had gone untapped.

"The Force is strong with you and surely, you shall be a powerful Sith." Sidious croaks as he lays a hand upon his apprentice's shoulder. "Do away with Anakin Skywalker, for henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Vader."


	2. Darth Vader at the Jedi Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Vader arrives at the Jedi to complete the mission Darth Sidious has given him after turning to the Dark Side

The darkness of the Coruscant night turns the white of the soldier’s armor to grey. Darth Vader surveys the ranks standing outside the Jedi Temple. It amazes him that the numbers have not drawn the attention of a single Jedi knight or scholar. He gazes upon the grand pillars that frame the doors to the temple; they seemed indestructible when he first saw them as an eight-year-old. Tonight, those supports will topple.

The Sith lord Force-pulls the doors open and strides into his former home, hundreds of clone soldiers at his back.

* * *

 

 

_Palpatine moves away from Darth Vader to sit behind the late Chancellor’s desk. “Go to the Jedi Temple with the clones, my apprentice. Vanquish the ones you once knew and surely, your power will grow. Know not Mercy nor Compassion, for only then will you grow in the Dark Side and possesses the strength to save Padme.”_

_Without hesitation, Anakin answer, “Yes, Master.”_

_The older man raises an eyebrow. “Have you no qualms nor questions?” Sidious asks._

_“No, my lord. I will do whatever it takes,” Darth Vader replies._

_Sidious smiles, and the sinister expression almost looks out of place on his child-like face._

_“Once, you have dealt with the Jedi, you must go to the Mustafar System and remove the scourge that is Viceroy Gunray and the Seperatists.” He pauses to deepen the grin, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. “Then, the two of us, you and I, will bring order to the Galaxy.”_

* * *

 

They’re here; the Jedi barracks. The gray doors bring a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. He laid his head here to sleep for over a decade but, it was also here he learned the meaning of isolation within a crowd. A Padawan stands outside, keeping guard. The role is supposed to teach responsibility and discipline; however, the Temple is considered impervious to attacks so it rather the task becomes a lesson on sleeping whilst standing upright. Unfortunately, the Padawan currently on duty is wide awake, though she has not seen him nor his soldiers. Darth Vader waves a finger, signaling for the clone troops to continue onto their rampage, leaving him alone with the Padawan.

She looks up as he approaches, and when her eyes light up in a smile, he recognizes her. “Anakin!”

Vader returns her greeting, “Hello, Ahsoka.” If he were more of Jedi, he would not even entertain this conversation; after all, arrogance is not a trait the Jedi should have. But, he wants to experiment with his new moral freedom.

“What are you doing here? I thought you chose to rest somewhere else within the city.” Her head tails bobble with excitement.

Vader smirks as he deflects her question. “Ahsoka, do I seem any different?”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “No, not at all. What do you mean, Master Skywalker?”

At the sound of the title, Vader does not bother to hide his expression and his face contorts into a scowl. “I am not a Master.” _Your teacher has failed you._

Ahsoka stutters her response. “But, how can you be on the Council and not be M-“ His lightsaber ends the sentence for her. She only gives a soft gasp as he pulls the saber from her belly. Sidious had been truthful; already, power surges through this body as the restraints come undone. His whole being vibrates with energy. He raises a hand and the gray doors fly off their hangers, literally. They make a loud “Bang” when they land on the floor 200 meters behind him, drawing the attention of the room’s occupants.

Instantly, the sight of the never-ending rows of triple-bunks brings bile to his mouth, far more bitter than sweet. They are unsure; he can see tell. He can see the confusion across their faces when he walks in, saber drawn, the blue illuminating their perplexed expressions. So, he grants them certainty with the first swing at the nearest bunk. The structure collapses, pinning and killing two Jedi Padawan under the cumbersome metal. He grants the occupants instancy with his second swing, which goes through the Jedi who sat on the top bunk.

The silence ends right away, Vader can see who has been paying attention in lessons, who is brave, who thinks too much for their own good. The screams ring in his ear and he smiles. An intrepid Padawan sprints towards him, green lightsaber in hand. _His courage will do him no good_. Two small strokes and the youngling transforms to a corpse.

More come, some try to run, but it does them all no good. Most of the older Jedi opt out of living in the barracks, so most who burn on his saber are younglings who offer no challenge at all. Soon their faces and death all blur into one, and with each fallen body, Vader feels his strength growing. He doesn’t even use his lightsaber for the last one.

“I know you’re not dead,” he calls out to the bodies. Instantly, a Padawan shoots up from the corpses on the floor and sprints to the exit. Vader chuckles, unamused; in three strides, his hands wrap around the back of the young learner’s robes. The youngling turns around, and Vader almost laughs when he recognizes the face.

“Master Skywalker! Please, I didn’t do anything!” Zaver sobs. His face is colored with a mix of tears, soot and the blood of his comrades.

Vader drops the amused expression and wraps his other hand around Zaver’s jaw and cheekbone. He lowers his head until his blue eyes overwhelm the youngling’s vision.

“I. am. Not. A. Master.” With those words, Darth Vader squeezes with all his strength. Before turning to the Dark Side, this feat would have been unfathomable. Yet, when he reaches to his fear and embraces his anger, it becomes effortless to press his fingers into the younglings’s skull until the cracking sound and the screams harmonize. He releases his grip when the screaming stops. The boy is no longer recognizable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I know Star Wars has always been PG but I think the scene of Darth Vader killing the Jedi would be an amazing addition and Lucasfilm made a misstep not including it in Revenge of the Sith. The next scene will be Padme and Anakin’s conversation in Coruscant before he goes to Mustafar. Feel free to leave me critique.


	3. Padme and Anakin Speak after the Jedi Massacre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The massacre at the Jedi temple leaves Anakin empowered and Padme afraid for her husband's safety. After a night of bloodshed, the two finally meet at their home in Coruscant.

Energy overtakes him. Even as he performs a minute tasks, like driving the airspeeder, the power continues to electrify his senses. He feels everything; the speeders surrounding him, the presence of every single being in the building he speeds by and, as he draws closer to his home, her.

He finds her waiting by the dock in baby blue nightwear. Her blue headband directs her brown ringlets to flow down her back.

He has barely stepped out of the speeder before she leaps on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso. A chuckle escapes his throat as he embraces his wife and her scent fills his nostrils.  He draws away from her warmth to give her small kiss.

“You missed me?” Anakin asks as he sets her down. Pink surrounds her eyes and colors her cheeks. “Padme, are you alright? Did something happen with the baby?”

“The baby is fine,” Padme answers. “But, when I saw the smoke coming from the Jedi Temple, I thought-“ her voice cracks. “Something had happened to you.” A solitary tear slips from her eye.

 Anakin raises his hand to her cheek and wipes the tear with his thumb.

“Don’t worry, Padme. I’m fine.” Anakin reassures.

“I know, I know,” a small laugh breaks her words. “I’m being overdramatic.”

Anakin smiles, touched by his wife’s concern. “No. Not at all. But I don’t want you to worry, love. You know I can protect myself.”

A sigh escapes Padme’s chest. “Ani, you are strong, not invincible.”

 “Let’s go inside,” the former Jedi suggests. Padme strides to the doors and her husband follows.

The senator settles on the beige couch while her husband retrieves water for her.

“Anakin, what is happening? I’ve heard rumors of-“

“I’ll tell you soon,” he interrupts as he settles onto the seat next to her and hands her the drink. “But first, I want to hear about your visit with the doctor and our baby.” He places a comforting hand on her knee.

Padme’s forehead crease disappears with the shift in topic. “You know how clinics on the outskirts are. It was overcrowded and the nurse only did a quick scan to check if it was healthy.” She takes a large gulp. “I didn’t even get an image. Now, tell me, what is going on?”

Anakin lets out a sigh. “The Jedi have tried to overthrow the Republic.”

Instantly, Padme’s jaw drops, her pink lips forming a perfect “O.” “No,” she gasps, her voice overflowing with disbelief.

“It’s the truth. I saw Master Windu assassinate Chancellor Palpatine myself and the traitors to the Republic will not be tolerated.”

“What will you do?” Panic creeps into her voice. “Who will lead the Senate now?”

Anakin pulls one of her hands from her lap and envelops it with his own.

“Don’t worry. Hirrop will succeed Palpatine.” He pauses. “As for me, my loyalties have always been with you, and with the Republic. In that order.”

Padme’s lips pucker and she squints like she has eaten sour fruit. “Metes as chancellor? That is nonsense. He is not close to qualified to lead the Senate.”

Anakin chuckles. “You shouldn’t doubt him; he’ll surprise you.” The statement draws a raised eyebrow from his wife.

“Anakin, I am an actual member of the Senate. Which one of us do you think is more knowledgeable on the topic?” Even with her cool tone and the half-smile playing on her lips, Anakin can feel the subtle insult hidden in her words.

He raised a hand to his hair line to brush aside a stray hair, and he feels the energy hidden in him flare. “Please, let’s not fight; I have to leave soon. The Seperatists have gathered on the Mustafar system and I’m going there to this war. When I get back, we’ll finally be able to step out of the shadows. Our love, our baby, we won’t have to hide them anymore. Nothing will hold us back.”

The doubt disappears from her face and he kisses her. After they break apart, he rises to his feet and turns to head to his speeder. Before he takes a single step, a small hand wraps around his wrist, halting the movement.

“What about Obi-Wan?” the voice behind him asks.

He turns to face her and he feels dark power surge through him.

“Traitors to the Republic won’t be tolerated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to seal one of the major plotholes from Revenge of the Sith, which was the question of how Padme and Anakin didn’t know that she was having twins. I also wanted improve the dialogue between Anakin and Padme and give them a bit more chemistry. Forgive me if this did not meet your expectations; I rarely write or read romance. The next scene will be Anakin’s arrival on Mustafar and the Senate meeting.


	4. Darth Vader Arrives on Mustafar

Revenge of the Sith Chapter 4

Anakin Arrives on Mustafar

Her husband’s speeder disappears on the horizon and the weight on her chest grows heavier. Even with first-hand experience of his capabilities, one singular thought persists; _I’ve got a bad feeling about this._

He seems different now, though the divergence is not one she can put into words. The variation is subtle but it shows when he smiles and when his hands wraps around her own.

A loud “ping” from her holo-com interrupts her thoughts. She waves a hand and a tall Torgruta male appears in front her, his image washed in blue. His grave expression betrays the topics before she even hears his words.

“This is a message to all members of the Senate. An emergency session of Congress has been called. It is imperative that you arrive at the Senate building as soon as possible.”

Padme waves her hand once more and the blue image disappears. As she rises her to feet, a bitter taste fills her mouth. Even if she doesn’t know how or why, she is certain of one thing; _everything will change._

 _It’s too hot_. The scorching heat presses against his body like a weight, squeezing sweat from every pore. Despite the uncomfortable conditions, he can’t help but marvel at the black palace in front of him; its vast size takes his breath away and the precision and symmetry of the cut stone nearly overwhelms him. “If the castle is of form that is to your liking, it shall be yours,” his master promised him.

A droid awaits him outside the volcanic rock wall.

“Hello, Lord Vader, my masters have been expecting you,” the droid greets in monotone. “if you follow me, I will lead you to their meeting room.”

Vader shakes his head, “No, you will give me a tour of this building first.” The droid pauses in confusion before answering, “Of course, Lord Vader.”

The droid presses the pad attached to its shoulder, and the granite doors swings open.

Padme settles into her seat. The room bustles with senators from hundreds of systems. their urgency almost impresses her; the message was sent less than an hour ago, yet almost all the seats are filled.  A horn sounds, and the room falls quiet as all eyes focus on the center of the chamber. The Chancellor’s Platform rises and there is a collective gasp as Hirrop Metes’s form, cloaked in the Chancellor’s robes, appears.  Loud whispers fill the large chamber, nearly deafening Padme. The young man clears his throat and the crowd stills.

“Hello, Senators, as many of you know, I am Hirrop Metes of Naboo. For the past 15 years, I have been honored to work alongside many of you in the Senate as Chancellor Palpatine’s assistant. So, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that Chancellor Palpatine is dead.” The whispers resume, louder than before. “The Jedi… assassinated my beloved mentor.” A solitary tear trickles from his eye and he wipes it away with a quivering thumb, but not before every senator can view the manifestation of his anguish.

He continues, “I have found proof that the Jedi have plotted to take over the Republic for more than a decade, inciting the Clone War and the Separatist conflict as a tactic to weaken _our_ Galaxy.” Echoes of boos fill the room at mention of the knights. “But it brings me joy to inform the Galactic Senate that the traitors have been excised from our society and are no longer a threat to our way of life. I believe peace will accompany the knowledge that my teacher’s murderers have been brought to justice,” his voice cracks, “even if it came too late.”

Padme is sure the cheers that follow almost destroy her eardrums. When the applause dies down, Metes resumes his speech.

“To continue the legacy of my teacher and guide, I humbly offer myself as her replacement.” As he says these words, a hologram appears of his proposal in written form along with words “Aye” and “Nay.” Padme doesn’t even have the opportunity to make her selection before a siren blares and Hirrop’s platform glows green, indicating the majority’s approval.

The man smiles and the bitter taste returns to her mouth. “Thank you for selecting me as leader of the Senate.”

She hears soft footsteps and recognizes the scent of strong cologne, made from Alderannen basil and oregano.

Bail Organa doesn’t bother with a greeting as he sits next to her. “What’s happened?”

“The Jedi assassinated Chancellor Palpatine and attempted a coup. Hirrop is now her elected replacement.”

Organa scoffs in disproval, a emotion she find herself nearing with each word out of new Chancellor’s mouth, in spite of her husband’s assurances. Padme returns her focus to the newly-elected chancellor’s speech.

“-the responsibility of the galaxy is now vested within me, my very first order is to ban the dogmatic cult of traitors called the Jedi and all those who sympathize with them. The remaining Jedi will be hunted to the ends of the Outer Rim, the orchestrated war _will_ end, and there will be peace!” Padme, Organa and Metes are the only ones in the chamber who don’t bring their hands together in applause.

His words sound too familiar to Padme, like the relic of the dictatorships she studied as a child.

“I recognize that the war has placed great strain on the economies and resources of _all_ systems in the Senate, not only those that have been the unfortunate hosts of battle.” Padme’s heart sinks lower with each word that comes from his thin lips. “With my next decree, I will relieve all systems of their inesssential responsibilities and stress. Henceforth, the central government will carry these burdens in your steed; the ineffacy of the Republic will remain no longer. Instead, our government will be reformed into the strength,” Hirrop clenches a fist in front of his face, “that is the First Galactic Empire!”

The words rob Padme of breath. She never wanted to be right, not like this. The applause almost chokes her thoughts. _Do they not realize the implication of his words? They celebrate the loss of their autonomy._

She leans toward Bail. “So, this is how liberty dies...” she allows a pregnant pause, “with thunderous applause.”

The tour of the gigantic palace, with a stop in every room, takes over an hour to complete. The building impresses Anakin more with each second he stands within it. _Its architecture, facilities, and ever-present droid staff will make it a suitable home._

“That brings our tour to an end,” the droid drones. “I will take you to the war planning room to meet my masters.” The machine leads him down a gray hall to a large room with green screens adorning every wall and two holo-pad desks in the middle.

Viceroy Gunray smiles when he looks up from his work at the holo-pad desk to see Vader standing in the doorway. He gives a warm greeting, “Welcome, Lord Vader. We’ve been expecting you.”

His blissful ignorance amuses Darth Vader.  The Sith waves a hand to close the doors and shock replaces the Viceroy lecherous grin.

“Don’t worry,” Vader begins. “I just think we should ensure our privacy, to be on the safe side.” He spreads his lip in a false grin, putting the Seperatist at ease.

“Of course, my lord,” he chirps. He opens his mouth to continue but the Sith raises his hand, halting his words.

“First, show me the controls for the droids,” Darth Vader demands.

“Certainly, Vader,” Gunray replies as he returns to the holo-pad desk. Vader moves a finger in an arc and the Viceroy stumbles.”

“You will refer to me as Lord Vader.”

The Neimoidan stutters an apology before pressing his palm against the holo-pad desk. An image of a droid appears and Gunray moves his arm is a criss-cross motion, causing a numberpad to appear. He types in a combination, and the list of droid masters appear.

Vader shoves the Neimoidan aside and begins to work. He ignores the other male’s protests as he removes all other droid masters, leaving him the sole commander of the droids.

“Lord Vader!” Viceroy exclaims his last words in vain. In one smooth motion, Darth Vader ignites his saber and the smell of singed skin fills the room.

Padme waits three hours for the new emperor to arrive to his recently-acquired chambers. He comes with a train of senators behind him, all offering congratulations. The senators are rambunctious and Hirrop is only one sober or not using a death stick. Padme rises from the waiting seat as the leader approaches.

“Hirrop, it is impertinent that we discuss in private.” It is not a polite request, like she would have offered his predecessor; the steel in her tone make it clear that is a demand.

The former aide turns to the group behind him. “Well, it looks like Senator Amidala is here to end the celebration,” he jokes. “Leave us.”

When the other members of the Senate vacate the room, Padme allows the polite smile on her face to drop.

“This is beyond absurd, Hirrop. You are not qualified to commandeer the senate nor do you possess the scope to completely abolish our constitution.”

Hirrop Metes smiles and a shiver creeps down Padme’s spine. “To begin, Amidala, I believe the appropriate title would be Emperor Metes. Then, to counter your point- you deem me unqualified yet, in one night, I have convinced all the Senators of the galaxy to topple the tenets of democracy and grant me absolute power.”

“You have failed to persuade me.”

“And that is irrelevant. There is no longer a Republic or soon the Galactic Senate will be all but obsolete. As of an hour ago, your post was effectively vacated, Padme,” he chuckles. “It is a shame we have grown apart since our days on Naboo, old friend. Still, regardless of our past, _all_ citizens will respect the authority of my regime. You would do well to follow the lead of your husband, Padme.”

Padme’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

The newfound emperor gives no response, only a look of amusement, as he turns to enter the former chancellor’s chambers.

His insides are aflame. The power consumes him; he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

Only two Separatists remain alive. Despite the morbidity of the situation, Vader laughs. It amuses him without end to see them try to avoid their fate. Perhaps that is the reason he has lengthened the 15-minute task into an hour of play. One of the leaders trips on his own robes as he scrambles to get away from the Sith Lord. Darth Vader takes another step forward, twirling his blue lightsaber in his hand.  The weapon hums with the motion and he lets out another laugh; this one is boisterous and resounds through the war room. He started on this path for his wife and it rewards him two-fold; first, with the knowledge that at the rate he is amassing power, immortality will soon be in his grasp, and second, with the addictive rush as he gives into his anger.

“Please,” the creature begs. Vader spins his lightsaber before embedding it in the Separatist ’s head, leaving only one other besides himself.

A shriek comes from the other side of the room and suddenly, the activity no longer entertains him. He reaches into the Force and squeezes his fingers into a fist. The crunch of a skeleton resounds from the same corner of the room, completing his task.

“Clean the room,” Vader commands the droids. “Then prepare a room for me and my wife,” he adds.

The machines move to the corpse as Vader wipes away the mix of sweat and blood covering his face. A drop strays into his mouth. The warrior grins at the bitter taste.

Padme drum her fingers against the holo-pad desk impatiently. This is the seventh holo-link she’s sent to her husband without response. The connection fell through and Padme lets out a sigh of exasperation as she prepares to send yet another holo-link to Anakin. At last, the connection goes through and a 3D image of husband in full color appears on the desk.

His mouth spreads into a wide grin that reaches his eyes. “Padme!”

“Anakin, we need to speak.” As she says the words, the light disappears from his eyes. “Hirrop dissolved the Republic, and he called you my husband. So, somehow, he knows about us.”

Her husband gives no reaction. “Padme, Metes is a good man. Trust him.”

“You told him about us?” Her voice jumps an octave. “Without telling me?”

Anakin’s face remains blank, unaffected by her emotion. “I trust him with my life, Padme. I’ve agreed to be his personal council,” his smile returns, “he offered us a palace on Mustafar. I can’t wait for you to see how amazing it is.”

There is a lapse that feels like 20 years.

“Anakin, what is going on with you?” Her husband’s eyebrows jerk up as a reply. The former senator continues, “You’re acting strangely. Suddenly you’ve decided to trade your loyalties to the Jedi to Hirrop Metes, to the point that you’re willing to ignore his decision to replace the Republic with a dictatorship. Then, out of nowhere, you’re talking about palaces on distant planets. I want to know why you’re behaving differently, Ani.”

The man sighs and gives a half-hearted answer. “I’m asking you to take a leap of faith, Padme. I promised you that things would be different but for that to happen things have to change. Just trust that I would do anything for you, my love. I’ll explain everything soon.”

Padme opens her mouth to speak but her lover interrupts, “I have to go now, Padme. I love you.”

She never thought the three words that comforted her at night would sound like such an excuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Revenge of the 6th! I decided to write a long chapter since the last two were brief. I wrote the second half at a late hour, so forgive my spelling and grammar errors. The next scene will be Obi-Wan Warns Padme.


	5. ObiWan Warns Padme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After witnessing the horrible events of the Jedi Massacre, ObiWan speaks with Padme.

ObiWan Warns Padme

 

The images weigh heavy on ObiWan’s heart and as he approaches the Senator’s home, he struggles to keep bile from coming up his throat. Every time he blinks, he finds the image of decapitated heads lurking behind his eyelids, and every time he takes breath, he smells the spilled blood and the singed skin of his former associates.

 

* * *

 

_It took everything in him not to scream when he saw the hologram of the unimaginable. Unfortunately, his self-restraint was not so great that he could keep himself from swinging his lightsaber through the projector. Yoda’s disapproval overpowered his senses like a stench._

_“Careful you must be, ObiWan, to make sure down the same path as your apprentice you do not go.” The master hobbled toward the exit. “Anger, fear, Anakin allowed to control him.” At these words, Yoda turned his head, and his dark eyes seemed to peer into ObiWan’s soul. “Succumb to these, you must not.” He returned to his original path, limping on his cane._

_“Wait,” ObiWan called out. “Where are you going?”_

_“To confront Hirrop, I go. To do what you know you must, find the courage.”_

_A thousand protests ran through ObiWan’s mind but they died on his tongue as he watched the small green creature walk away. His duty called to him, and he knew where to begin._

* * *

 

“Hello, ObiWan,” Padme greets him with a hug. “How are you?”

“I’m afraid there’s no time for pleasantries, Padme.” He strides into the grandoise home from the doorway. “Where’s Anakin?”

“I beg your pardon?” Padme waves a hand and the door slides shut. She turns to face the Jedi Master.

“Anakin is the father of your child, isn’t he?” When the senator fiddles with the bracelet on her right wrist, he shakes his head. “I’ve been blind not to see it.”

Her hand falls from her jewelry and she stands up straight, chin up. “Why do you need to see him?” she challenges. Suddenly, ObiWan’s mouth has never felt drier.

“Padme, please, I didn’t come here to start an argument, but it’s important. Every moment we delay, more lives are put in danger.”

The senator raises an eyebrow before she speaks, “Are you going to continue with the vague omens or apply specificity?”

ObiWan sighs and releases the vise wrapped around his heart. “Anakin has turned to the dark side.” The leader’s reaction shocks ObiWan.

Her cheeks rise as her lips spread into a grin, then a chuckle rises from her throat. “You’re funny, friend.”

There’s a lapse in their conversation as Padme gazes into ObiWan’s unwavering expression and the corners of her mouth descend.

“Hirrop Metes is a Sith Lord and somehow, he has convinced Anakin to pledge himself to the dark side.” He knows his words have hit home when the woman opposite him shifts. He places a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Padme, I saw a security hologram of…” he fights to keep the bile down and his tears back. “Anakin killing younglings.” His voice cracks on the last words.

Instantly, her demeanoar changes. She steps back and ObiWan’s hand falls from its position. A scowl mars her features.

“No.” Her voice drops into a near-growl. “That’s ludicrous.”

“Please, Padme, I need to know where he is. He is a danger,” the Jedi Master pleads.

Her dark eyebrows furrow, enhancing her glare. “Is there any evidence to support such outlandish claims, Master Jedi.” The title is dripping with sarcasm.

 “You know that I’m not lying. You can see that he is different now, that he has been different for-.”

Padme interrupts his pleas.

“I requested proof. Not pathos.” The smooth alabaster of her face has transformed to deep red. “Pray tell, where is it… dear friend?”

ObiWan stutters, “I was in a rush, there was no time-“

Padme lets out a mirthless chuckle and steps toward her former friend. “So, you enter my home, make baseless claims without a single iota of evidence, in an attempt to convince me to aid you in murdering the man you once called your friend and is the father of my child? I am more than familiar with astounding folly and the level you demonstrated within this conversation is almost impressive.” Her hands dart out and pull the collar of his robe towards her until their faces are centimeters apart and ObiWan can see the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. “Get out.”

“Pa-“

She releases the cloth and shoves him backwards. “Get out!” Padme shrieks. He gives her one last look before jogging towards the door.

“I’m sorry.” His apology is so soft that she can barely hear it over the blood pounding in her ears.

When he leaves, there is nothing left holding the tears and her suspicions back. She waves her hand twice and the familiar shuffling of C-3PO’s steps grow louder until the droid appears in her view.

“Madam, you called?”

“Yes, 3PO.” She wipes away a tear. “Call for a ship. We’re going to Mustafar.”

She gazes out the window, to the tall buildings that surround hers and the speeders zooming by like insects,

_The weather is too beautiful, the sun too bright for this darkness._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for uploading late. The next chapter will be a major one- Padme and Anakin Speak on Mustafar!
> 
>  


	6. Padme and Anakin Speak on Mustafar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme confronts Anakin after hearing disturbing news about her husband.

Revenge of the Sith Chapter 6

 

Padme and Anakin Speak on Mustafar

Padme waits until she can feel the heat of the planet’s surface before contacting her husband. She presses a few buttons, and Anakin’s visage appears, dyed blue.

She doesn’t expect him to answer with a scowl and annoyance in his voice. He doesn’t greet. “Padme, your locator says you’re on Mustafar. Care to explain?”

Padme tries to ignore the weight sinking her stomach as she answers. “I need to speak with you. It couldn’t wait.”

Anakin doesn’t reply right away. The silence seems to stretch for hours as his eyes move across her features, full of doubt.

“Fine,” he speaks and Padme feels like she can breathe again. “I’ll have a droid meet you when you land.” He ends the transmission before Padme can even fit another word in. C3PO makes a quip that she can’t hear, and her eyes begin to sting. Distantly, she can hear her loyal droid asking a question about her wellbeing. She runs her thumb under her eyes before the tears can spill before answering,

“I’m fine, C3PO.” The ship slows and the castle comes into view.

Padme is beyond familiar with large structures, having spent most of her adolescence and adulthood in the galaxy’s most impressive metropolis, but the Mustafarian castle takes her breath away when she lays her eyes upon its black walls. A droid awaits them at the end of the landing pad.

“Hello, Mistress Padme.” The machine calls. “Master Anakin has commanded me to take you to him straight away.”

Padme turns to her own gold-plated assistant. “3PO, can you please stay with the ship? I’ll be back, soon, I promise.”

“Of course, Mistress Amidala.” He moves in a jerky movement meant to imitate a bow before trotting back to the silver ship.

 

 

Anakin knows right away. Even without his new powers, he can read the uncertainty across her persona, and with his newly-earned ability, the suspicion fills the now-faultless war room like perfume. She walks to him and stops in front of the holopad desk where he is seated.

Even though, he knows the answer in full, he asks anyway. “Why are you here?”

She crosses her arms, like she always does when she’s trying to hide her anger. “I was worried about you.” Anakin struggles not to allow a chuckle escape his mouth at the blatant lie. She continues, “You seem different now, Ani.”

The former Jedi raises an eyebrow. “Different, how?” He watches as his wife struggles to bring form to her thoughts before she opens her mouth to speak in clipped words.

“ObiWan says you killed younglings.” Her tone is level, but when she says the words, her eyes move across his face, searching for the truth in his expression. His wife will not find it.

Anakin waves off the statement like an absurdity, trying to pull Padme’s mind to other thoughts. “ObiWan is trying to turn you against me,” he replies with disgust.

The stench of doubt and the wrinkle in her brow persists. “So, is he lying?”

Before Anakin can fabricate an elaborate deception, Padme says, “Ani… you swore never to lie to me. Say it is a lie and I will believe you.”

Two blue eyes bore into a pair of brown as fear overtakes their conversation. Padme’s eyebrow shoot up in realization and a strangled sound comes from her, something halfway between sobbing and gagging.

“H-how could-?” She can’t even push the question across the lump in her throat.

Anakin leans back in his chair, unaffected by the tears welling up Padme’s eyes.

“Don’t look so sad, love. It’s for you.” The emotions coming from his wife nearly overwhelm his defenses. Her fear transforms into anger so palatable, it feels like drowning in oil. She unfolds her arms and leans over his desk until her brown eyes are inches from his own, a power move she introduced to him last year. The red is disappearing from her eyes already.

When she speaks, her tone borders the unfamiliar. “The things you’ve done are unforgivable, incorrigible and frankly, I refuse to be the claimed as the basis of them.”

Anakin smiles, wholeheartedly amused. “Don’t speak to me like I’m the members of the Senate.” He moves his head closer, unfazed by her glare. “I’m your husband.”

Her nostrils flare before answering, “Are you? Because the man I married would not have killed younglings nor betrayed all that he has known.” Her rage is almost as great as his, and the feeling is intoxicating him until he’s lightheaded and wants to break out in laughter of the sensation. The Sith Lord restrains the brash display.

Anakin cocks an eyebrow. “The man you married punished an entire village for the sins of one.” Padme’s jaw drops, forming a perfect oval. “I’m fulfilling my destiny, Padme. The Jedi were blind; don’t be the same.” His wife backs away slowly, and the presence in the room turns to self-loathing and disdain.

She brushes a stray strand of brown out her face and raises her chin in defiance. “If _your_ fear of losing me is the reason behind all this, if my end is what you use to justify your violence,” Padme pauses and the composition of the room changes again. “ _I would rather die.”_

Rage blurs Skywalker’s vision momentarily before his sense returns, sharper than before.

“Enough!” he yells.

He slams his open palm on the table, leaving cracks on the holo-pad and glass embedded in his hand, then reaches into The Force and his wife falls silent. She watches in him surprise while he rises from his seat. Beads of sweat decorate his forehead and he’s sure that even if had not been using the Force, Padme would have speechless. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling anymore, only that is Dark and it makes him stronger with each passing second. Each step he draws closer to Padme, the frightened expression is further engrained in her face.

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Can’t you see I’m so much powerful now; I can even stop your vocal cords from vibrating without hurting you. I said I would do whatever it takes. This is what it takes!” Heat spreads across his face, it doesn’t even stop when it reaches the tip of his ears. “I will not let happened to my mother happen to you.” Saliva sprays from his lips.

Padme moves her mouth soundlessly.

“Hirrop has offered me the highest position in his new Empire and his knowledge in immortality. You will not betray me. You will not run away.” Anakin does not reach into the Force this time. There is no intention of subtlety. A tear trickles from Padme’s eye, the first in their conversation.

“Excuse me, Master Skywalker.”

The Sith Lord turns to the source; a droid peeking its head out of the doorway. The droid continues, “A ship has landed near the fortress, I thought to notify you. You can view the images on your holopad, Master.”

Anakin turns back to his desk, releases Padme’s voice and waves a hand, activating the technology. He recognizes the orange speeder right away.

“Did you bring ObiWan here…” he turns to the Senator. “to kill me?”

Padme answers too quickly. “No.”

Jealousy wraps around his throat and anger fill his lungs until he can hardly breathe.

“You talk about him a lot.” He could just overwhelm her mental capabilities with his own and extricate the truth; no matter how strong-willed the politician is, her facilities wouldn’t be able to withstand him bending her will to his own. But, in a feat of self-restraint, he sits on the holo pad desk, deactivating the image carrying the proof of his wife’s betrayal. “He’s in our home quite often.”

Padme’s nose wrinkles in disdain. “Do not insult me with a such ludicrous suggestion.”

Anakin stands and gives a small smile that sends a sensation like being pierced with icicles throughout her body. “I’m happy to hear that, my love.” His face hovers in front hers in one long stride. “Because after I kill him-” His hand rests on her cheek; the frigid touch Is no colder than his heart. “- I will bring you his head.”

Padme grabs his wrist and pushes his palm from his face. “Consider your words-“

“I won’t listen if you’ll speak to me like I’m Congress.” He interrupts.

“Padme continues, unfazed, “Anakin, ObiWan is your friend. He’s been with you since you were a boy. You can’t be so disillusioned that you would kill your closest friend.”

Anakin lets out another mirthless chuckle. “My closest friend is here to kill me and… my goal is the same. Wait here until I return.” The command carries a hatred Padme can feel in her soul.

 

He frees is wrist and speeds to the door. Padme sprints after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides until her body blocks his path.

“Move aside, Padme.” His towering presence nearly takes the breath out of her lungs, but she reaches for the last bit of courage she has.

“No, Anakin-” her husband’s eyes seem to glow gold at her words “-I won’t let you do this.”

Anakin nostrils flare, and faster than Padme can anticipate, her husband brings his hand behind his head and squeezes his fingers into a fist.

She feels it right away. It hurts nothing like everything she’s felt before. None of the preparation classes could have prepared her for this. Another burst of pain shoots through her swollen belly and she doubles over in pain.

“What have you done, Ani?” she whimpers.

“Droids!” Anakin yells. Instantly, the machines come shuffling into the warroom. “Escort my wife to the medical bay. Make sure she has a smooth delivery or I will slice each and every one of you and throw your parts into the lava.” His voice booms and echoes off the walls.

“D-don’t.” Padme struggles to form the words through the pain, as the droids bring in a stretcher. Anakin smiles, then turns to complete his journey. In one last burst of energy, Padme continues after the former Jedi knight in a futile attempt as the doors to the warroom begin to close, separating the two.

She screams out one last plea to bring him back from the prepice. “Anakin, don’t do this!”

Her husband looks over his shoulder and smirks. “Actually, I prefer the name Darth Vader.” The doors slide shut and a team of droid surround her to place her on the gurney.

When her back hits the white sheets, she grabs the arm of the nearest droid.

“Give me a shot of _Kurzdoud_ , right away,” the senator demands.

“Madame, _Kurzdoud_ would accelerate the birth and there have incidents of sudden drops in blood pressure in humanoid mothers such as yourself,” the droid clips. “It is not recommended.”

Padme yanks the droid’s arm, pulling its face closer to her own. “I. Do. Not. Care. Administer the _Kurzdoud._ ”

The droid pulls back, hold a hand up, and a thin silver needle rises from its forefinger. Without warning, the droid plunges the syringe in her arm and she feels the pressure of the medicine as it is injected into her bloodstream.

_How did this happen?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. This was a long chapter. Next chapter will be “ObiWan and Darth Vader Meet.”


	7. ObiWan Meets Vader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ObiWan and Vader duel on Mustafar as Padme delivers twins

ObiWan’s eyes stings when he sees his former apprentice, but it may simply be the heat of the planet. Another scorching breeze crosses his face and droplets form against his forehead. In the distance, he can see the gray outline of Padme’s ship on the horizon.

When they are close enough that ObiWann can see the Darkness spreading from his forgotten friend’s eyes, Darth Vaders calls out to him from the other side of the bridge.

“This is your last chance, ObiWan. Leave now.”

“How could you let this Sith Lord twist your mind? And become the evil you swore to destroy?” ObiWan yells. The words dry his mouth as he spits them out. “What about Padme?”

At his words, Darth Vader unsheathes his saber, the blue contrasting with the red landscape. His brown hair catches a breeze, and the scar framing his right eye turns red. “I’ve seen how you look at her.” His lips twist into a sneer. “You will not have her.” With no warning at all, he launches himself forward, intent on decapitating the Jedi Master.

ObiWan barely has time to draw his weapon. A loud hum fills the air as the blue hues collide.

“It’s a girl!” the medical droid chirps, trying and failing to imitate the excitement in an organic lifeform’s voice. Padme reaches her arms towards her wailing daughter then draws back in pain as she feels another contraction seize her body.

“Get ready,” the 4-armed droid warns. “Looks like you got another one coming.”

* * *

 

Darth Vader is relentless in his attack. For every step he takes forward, ObiWan must take two back. The former Jedi swings his saber, and ObiWan ducks to avoid the lethal arc. The younger man follows the momentum in a complete circle and thrust forward, holding the blade in one hand. ObiWan parries as he takes another step back, moving the fight towards the landing pad.

* * *

 

“Ah, a boy this time,” the medical droid drones. Padme struggles to smile. The clock on the wall says it’s only been two minutes since the birth of her first child but it felt like she had been pushing the second child for at least half an hour.

“Madam, he is not breathing. I’ll need to take him to the ventilator.” The droid turns but Padme stops the servant.

“Wait!” she cries out. “Let me name him first.” She pleads. The droid pauses before answering.

“Very well, but please do so quickly.”

Padme pants out his name before the droid turns once more.

“Please, give me Leia. Give me my daughter.” The droid places the healthy child in her arms as quickly and gently as possible before speeding away to another room.

 _They’re so beautiful._ Padme thinks to herself. Already, they both have brown tufts of hair sitting upon their scalps and the child in her arms has her hazelnut eyes. Padme pulls her gown down, then brings the child to her chest, and as her daughter feeds, the weight of the situation hits her all at once.

“I love you so much, Leia,” she whispers as she presses a kiss to the pink skin. “You’re going to be so strong. Like your mother.” She looks up to the ceiling, trying to blink back tears. “Like your father.” The former queen can’t see it but her daughter’s eyes open slightly. The child only gets a brief glimpse of her mother’s beauty before the light overwhelms her and she closes her eyes once more.

The droid returns. “Good news, Madame Padme. Your son, Luke, is on the ventilator and has stabilized.”

Padme sniffles as she thinks of responsibility she bears, for her children, for the Galaxy. She looks up at the medical droid.

“I need you to take her.” Padme chokes back a sob.

“That is not recommended, Madam. There is no need for you to rush now to hold your son. If you wait 15 minutes-“

Padme cuts the droid off. “No, that is not what I mean. I must go. Please take her.” She pulls Leia from her chest,

“This is a critical time to bond with your children,” the droid protests as Padme shoves Leia into the machine’s arms. “There is still danger that your blood pressure may drop, Madame,” the bot adds as Padme swings her legs over the side of the gurney. Her knees wobble with the pain of childbirth and bile threaten to climb up her throat. She pulls up her gown’s neckline and takes a tentative step towards her boots. Thankfully, they’re Convience Boots, so as she approaches them, the sides of the boots fold downwards, leaving the sole exposed. She places her feet inside and the sides of the boots roll back up straight away. She lumbers to the door while the medical droid and her daughter beg her to stay.

* * *

 

ObiWan lunges forward with his blade and immediately regrets the decision as Darth Vader parries the lightsaber with his own before bringing his weapon in a circle. ObiWan’s lightsaber flies out of his hands and lands on the embankment underneath the landing platform.

Darth Vader shows no hesitation; he raises his arm and brings the saber down with all his might. ObiWan side-steps the attack and lands an uppercut on his student’s liver. When Darth Vader moves one hand from the lightsaber hilt to the afflicted area, ObiWan grabs the wrist holding the only weapon left in the conflict, putting Darth Vader on his back. The Master burrows a finger into the younger man’s wrist and the saber falls. Before he can reclaim the upperhand, Darth Vader wraps a muscular arm around his neck. ObiWan doesn’t think; he pulls his shoulder down and forward, flipping the Sith Lord over.

Vader recovers quickly and before ObiWan can use the Force to grab either saber, a gloved fist collides his jaw. A dark boot follows, but this time, the Jedi ducks. His old student releases a barrage of punches, all which the older man avoids. Dath Vader swings another hook and this time, ObiWan rushes the taller figure, stepping behind him. The former teacher clasps his hands around the waist of the man he once called his brother and arches backward, supplementing his body’s strength with the Force. As soon as he feels Vader’s neck and head collide with the floor, he spins, pressing the now-injured man’s body into the hot floor. He wraps his arms around Vader’s neck in a chokehold and squeezes. He feels the Sith go limp then suddenly, his senses overflow with the stench of raw power. Instinctively, ObiWan releases his hold and launches himself towards the embankment with the aid of the Force just as Darth Vader’s lightsaber flies into the gloved hand and moves in an arc.

ObiWan winces as he lands on the soft ground; pain radiates from the new wound below his knee. He picks up his lightsaber with his hand.

His opponent has lost his sense of urgency now. Vader strolls onto the shore, dragging his lightsaber along the ground as he approaches the man he once called master. ObiWan’s forehead is drenched in sweat and hair sticks to his scalp, but the evil in front of him seems to be affected by neither the neat of the planet nor their battle.

“What you’re doing is wrong, Anakin. Stop this now!” ObiWan pleads. “You were once my friend.”

Vader chuckles. “I was once your _subordinate_. Now,” he raises the saber in an offensive stance. “I am greater.” With no warning, Darth Vader wraps dark energy around a small rock on the shore and fires it at the bearded man. ObiWan grabs the projectile easily before launching it back, several times weaker and slower than Vader’s attempt.

The Sith laughs and flicks his hand, sending the rock behind him.

A sharp cry breaks his concentration. In complete noncompliance with everything he knows about battle, he turns his back to his opponent to face the sound- just in time to see his wife tumble through the air, bright crimson spreading across her medical gown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not uploading! Two more chapters left.


	8. ObiWan and Darth Vader Meet Part 2

Revenge of the Sith Chapter 8

ObiWan and Darth Vader Meet Part 2

Padme’s feet slip from the end of landing pad and Anakin’s heart descends as quickly as her body does; the blood on her gown almost makes a beautiful design as droplet rise from the cloth.

Anakin thrusts a hand forward and catches his wife with the Force. He sprints to her and she lands gently in his arms. Kneeling, he places her head in his lap.

The stench of blood is overwhelming. It takes him back to when he first discovered his mother, hardly alive after years of slavery and abuse. The front of her gown is already flush red; if it weren’t for his knowledge in the Force, he wouldn’t even know the wound location. He brings her closer to him and presses his hand against the injury, turning his black gloves to red.

“A-Ani,” Padme mutters.

Anakin quiets her while he uses the Force to add pressure to the wound. “Don’t speak. Conserve your energy.”

She shivers before speaking. “He has your eyes, Ani,” the senator whispers.

The man’s eyes turn red with tears, matching his wife’s. Padme reaches a bloody hand for her husband’s face and he almost flinches at the chill.

“I know-“ she begins.

Tears and snot fall freely from his face and a lump grows in his throat. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

“No, Padme. Don’t speak. Just wait. I can save you,” he babbles. “I can save you.”

Even now, he can feel her growing weaker in his arms.

Padme licks her paling lips before continuing, “I know… there is good in you still.” She lightly grips the carved wood around her neck and her lips move in a subtle smile. Anakin hardly hears her next words. “There is good in you.”

The energy surrounding her slowly fades and when it disappears completely, Anakin can’t breathe. His throat has been sealed shut and the air taken from his lungs. He feel both the heat of the planet but also a deep chill that will haunt his bones. Dark energy seeps from his pores as his pain grows, but he has never felt so powerless in his life.

Vader cradles his wife’s head under his chin and brings his mouth down to her ear to whisper the last secret he will ever share with her. “ _You_ were the good in me.”

Distantly, he’s aware of the Jedi Master drawing nearer. The lightsaber is off and Vader feels no aggression from him. He must look quite affright now with blood covering his entire body and snot and tears running down his face.

“I am so sorry, Anakin,” ObiWan consoles with a shake of the head. “But this is the price of the Dark Side. Stop all of this now before it’s too late.”

Vader looks up at the man he once revered. The Sith Lord’s expression is blank but his eyes glow in pure gold as he rises to his feet. With a faint click, the saber ignites, flickering from fluorescent blue to a red that matches the lava flowing from the planet’s core.

There are no words, only a blur of red as a wave of lava climbs from the burning river and crashes upon ObiWan’s left side, despite the master’s attempt to dodge the attack. His world falls mute and partially numb. the sensation the faint tingling of nerve damage traveling from his ear to his wrist. Still, he struggles to lift his saber in defense. The opposition lets out a boisterous laugh as dark lightning coats his shoulders, like stars appearing in the night sky. With a swing of the red lightsaber, the injured man’s hilt falls into two useless pieces.

ObiWan doesn’t hesitate; he spins on his heels and sprints as fast as his body will allow. He pushes himself forward with the Force and in half a second, he’s sprinting across the landing pad.

“You’re a coward, ObiWan, like all your Jedi friends” Vader calls out behind him, his eyes shining like Tatooine’s twin suns. “And for what you have done.” The Sith Lord extinguishes the crimson sword as ObiWan feebly attempt to climb one of the smooth towers surrounding the palace. “I will kill you with my bare hands.” He lets the weapon fall to the black platform.

Each inch ascended brings a new wave of discomfort across ObiWan’s back but he persists, using only his right hand and the Force to climb. He turns down to face his old friend, ignoring the ache in his shoulder.

“How can you be so lost, Anakin?” he screams. This may be his last chance to bring his student from the Darkness of the Force, to reclaim the Chosen One. Sweat weighs down his robes, and the heat of the environment brings overwhelming nausea. “How could you betray everything you’ve known and turn to evil?”

Vader pushes a brown lock from his forehead, spreading blood further along his face. “Those will be your last words, Master.” The lightning wraps around Darth Vader’s silhouette like a suit and obscures his visage in darkness as it transforms into a mask. ObiWan can no longer see his old mate, only the evil surrounding him. ObiWan blinks. Suddenly, one strong hand wraps around his throat, not only cutting off his air but nearly breaking his trachea. The pressure against his neck isn’t the only thing suffocating him; he chokes on the stench other man’s hatred and Darkness. Two eyes full of loathing, one framed with a red scar, overwhelm his vision.

Vader’s artificial hand is firmly embedded in the rock above the head of his victim, his feet planted on the obsidian tower’s walls. He has never seen his teacher look so amusingly pathetic. The man smiles at the thought before returning his mind to the corpse on the scorching shore; at the image, he finds it easy to pour his hatred into the weakening Jedi. ObiWan’s eyes widen at the torrent of evil. Darth Vader chuckles and squeezes even harder.

The glare blinds ObiWan- both the stare and the anger glowing from it. The Jedi Master struggles to wheeze and fails, his throat is almost fully constricted; he’s certain that if it weren’t for his abilities in the Force, he would be dead by now. His healthy hand falls away from the cliff so that now only the single hand on his neck supports his weight, choking him further. His vison blurs until one ominous thought endures. _I’m finished._

 _“Have faith, my apprentice.”_ A familiar voice murmurs in his thoughts.

Behind the darkness of his lids, ObiWan replies with a question. _“QuiGon?”_

 _“Trust that the Force will guide you to do what you must.”_ He feels a light grip over his right hand, granting him energy he has never experienced before.

ObiWan reaches for the lightsaber with the Force at the same time as his eyes fly open, still spilling tears. Before his pupil can react, he maneuvers the light saber in a semi-circle, slicing both legs and an arm, until the only thing holding ObiWan up is the Force.

Darth Vader plummets- he descends like the hopes of the Jedi. His back crashes into the dark sand with a large boom, before he rolls towards the rising tide. He halts the movement with his only remaining limb, stopping next to the corpse of his wife. Above his mangled body, ObiWan slides down to the platform, equipped with his self-assigned righteousness. The Jedi Master takes a tentative step onto the embankment with a watchful eye on the creeping lava tide. His eyes shine with tears, enduring, despite the heat’s attempt to dry them. Nothing will console ObiWan now.

“How could you do this, my friend.” His voice cracks. “You’ve gone so far, too far, that there is no hope for you now. You were the Chosen One!” A trail of snot drips from his nose. “How could you let the darkness consume your soul like this?” The magma approaches the remainder of Vader’s lower half and the Sith Lord begins to squirm as the scorch reaches him. He knows what it means if it reaches Padme.

“Please, ObiWan, Hirrop might save her.” Anakin pleads with desperation he has only felt once before in his life. “Just put her on the landing pad. Please.”

The man digs a feeble hand in the dark sand as the lava pulls him backwards. Padme’s body rests next to his shoulder; her facial expression is serene underneath the blood caked on it.  He could almost believe that her death is a mere figment of his distressed mind. The pull of the lava snaps him out of his reverie. The corpse descends another foot and Anakin struggles using both the Force and his robotic hand to hold the one and half bodies from the moving lava. The gold diminishes from his irises, leaving teary blue hues.

“You can kill me. Just save her.” The anger ebbs from him, revealing the true source- fear. “My child needs her,” he whimpers.

There is a pause between them. Then ObiWan pants and shakes his head, irritating the burns on his left side. “I’m sorry, the Dark side has taken so much already. I will not give it more.” He backs away; he won’t be able to bear watching what happens next.

Vader’s countenance changes immediately with the denial; hatred radiates from his body like thunder. “Damn you, ObiWan!” His voice booms with his disdain. “I hate you.” His screams nearly pierce ObiWan’s good eardrum. “I hate you! I hate you!” The tide reaches the stubs that used to be his legs and he screams even louder. It is 50 times hotter than the lava that scarred ObiWan mere minutes ago. The drag of the tide is even stronger and Padme slides down another foot into the lava; he can’t save her, his power isn’t great enough. Despair chokes him.

“No, Padme, no.” Vader cries. Defying his own instinct to survive, he reaches for the wooden necklace around her neck, sending him even further along the bank. The band holding it around her neck snaps easily as her shoulder sink into the flow.

 

“Damn you…” he sobs as his wife disappears completely. “I hate you!” he screams once the lava reaches his belt and flames overtake his body. He plunges into a new depth of suffering as the pain doubles in both physical and emotional dimensions. ObiWan’s white robes become a gray dot on the horizon. At that moment, in the throes of his endless anguish, he swears an oath by the carved ornament twisted in his fingers.  

 

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I feel like ObiWan needed to be morally “gray” and Anakin should have a much more legitimate reason to hate him. Watching his wife dissolve in lava should do the trick. Also I thought it was strange how ObiWan could fight someone as powerful as Darth Vader and come out unharmed. One more chapter left.


	9. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Revenge of the Sith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think killed Padme? Medicine, Darth Vader or ObiWan? Or are they all responsible?
> 
> Are you pronouncing Metes as “met- EEZ” , “Meets”, or “MET-es” in your head?

Revenge of the Sith Chapter 9

THE END

A sigh of frustration passes Hirrop’s lips when he sees the mangled body of his apprentice on the shore from his perch upon the landing platform. He cannot deny how impressive the new Sith Lord’s mettle is, to still be alive after the high tide of lava, but he also cannot ignore the damage Vader has suffered. The ruler strides down the sharp incline as if it were the halls of the Senate building. When Metes draws near he can hear it- it’s barely discernable over the sound of the waves but if he focuses he can hear the words keeping his apprentice alive under the cooling lava.

_I hate you._

The words aren’t directed to him but, still, he is taken aback by the wave of hatred behind them- the musings are so bitter that they border on delicious. He slows to a stroll and waves a hand in a lazy half-arc. The magma covering Darth Vader cracks, and Metes can hear a slight lapse in his student’s thoughts as he’s granted temporary relief.

He takes one last look at the bleak landscape. “Carry him back to the ship,” Hirrop orders before turning away from the almost-corpse.

* * *

 

Bright medical lights paint the black walls of the ship’s medical bay gray. All the white lights aim towards the mass of burns strapped to the huge operating table. The prospect of simply allowing Vader to heal himself tempts the Emperor. Even with tubes covering every square inch of his body, the mangles man expels dark power. But the thought of having the reins of such strength is far more tantalizing. His child-like face twists into a smirk; across the room, he senses a clone soldier’s discomfort. He ordered every clone soldier he had available to the operating room; the computer system lowered the room temperature to near freezing to combat the heat of so many bodies in a space that could barely contain them.

“We have everything in place,” a medical droid chirps behind Metes. The Galatic Emperor turns to his patient. “I will rebuild you, my apprentice.” Vader’s yellow eyes travel across his face, now wide with fear. Hirrop waves a clone soldier over to the table.

Hirrop makes no move to acknowledge the trooper, instead, he lays his hands across the charred chest and closes his eyes.

_I hate you_

He smiles; his apprentices anger will fuel what is to come. Hirrop turns his head to the man standing by his side. The last thing the clone sees are two eyes overtaken in white gold. Hirrop shudders as he feels the first bead of sweat roll from his forehead. A stinging sensation like acid blooms across his face but he ignores it to call another troop to his side. The second man slumps on the floor 10 feet from the operating table as soon as he catches a glimpse of Hirrop’s eyes. The emperor feels another wave of stinging energy bloom across his face, along with the scent of blood, confirming his suspicions. Without hesitation, he calls for another clone trooper, ignoring the searing pain over his cheekbones and jaw. 

 

* * *

 

Hirrop loses count; it’s impossible to determine the number of soldiers scattered across the room in a single glance. There is no feeling left in his face, and he is even unsure if his lips are pulled into a grin as he watches the droid attach fake limbs and a ventilator to his unconscious apprentice. A droid moves to place the helmet over Vader’s pale face when the former Jedi’s eyelids fly open; he lifts a hand, unhindered by the restraints around his wrists, and the droid shoots across the room to crash against the wall and land on top of two clone soldiers.

He steps forward, breaking the remaining restraints. The new implements have him towering over his master at standing height, bordering on intimidating.

“Where is Padme? Is she safe?” The ventilator tube in his left nostril muffles the words. His blue eyes bore into Hirrop’s face, unfazed by the change. In spite of himself, Sidious looks away as he delivers the news.

“I’m afraid your wife is dea-.” A bionic hand wrap around his throat before he can even finish forming the last word. A ‘crack’ echoes though the room as the ruler’s trachea loses its battle against the pressure of the fingers. Gold light washes Hirrop’s eye sockets before he sends energy into Darth Vader’s chest. The taller individual writhes when the pain medication in his suit shuts off.

Hirrop places a hand on his own throat and waits for it to heal before speaking. “I am not a Jedi. I do not use dishonesty to foster loyalty.” He waves a hand and the relief returns to Vader. “I sent my droids out to search for hours. The lava is over a thousand degrees; we could only find trace particles of her DNA.” He pauses as he pulls a wooden ornament from his robes and offers it to his protege. “Let this fuel you, Lord Vader.”

“And what of my child?”

The ancient one pauses before replying, “ObiWan detonated a Cleanser bomb. The droids could not recover anything from the ash.”

Hirrop does not bat an eye when the machinery around him crumples as Vader lets out a long wail. The Sith Lord falls to his knees as he cradles the last reminder of his wife in his hands. Tears stream down his face, leaving angry red trenches in the damaged skin. They will be the last tears that his ruined eye ducts will ever let him cry.

There’s a hoarse whisper. “I will kill him.” He slams a fist on the floor, leaving a deep crater. “Even if I have to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy.” He looks at the emblem in his hand, representing everything he has lost. “I will kill the coward. And all he’s loved.”

Metes chuckles then bends down to pick up the helmet that has miraculously retained its shape after the temper tantrum and offers it to Darth Vader.

“The air is poisonous to your skin.” His apprentice stands and dons the mask, a black soulless expression replacing the pain in the blues and reds of Vader’s face. In the reflection of the eyeglass, Hirrop can see himself, wrinkled and wizened. The image smiles, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth.

-Fin-

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I was not as consistent as I had hoped to be and the last chapter took forever to form fully. I may or may not write a spin-off of this remake with the Original Trilogy but I wouldn’t hold your breath for that. If I actually do get around to writing the spin-off, I would post under this story, so don’t feel like you have to follow my profile. I had a blast writing this remake and I hope you, the reader, enjoyed it as well

**Author's Note:**

> I want to explain my method a bit. I think the original plot twist was very unexpected but in a remake, plot twists should definitely not be recycled. I also wanted to really emphasize the pride and overconfidence of the Jedi Council; it is apparent in the movie, but not overt enough. I plan to continue with the story until the end of Revenge of the Sith. The next scene will be of Darth Vader at the Jedi Temple.


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